


Sweet Talk

by the_last_dillards



Series: Kinktober 2020 [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hate Sex, Kinktober, Lap Sex, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_last_dillards/pseuds/the_last_dillards
Summary: Every encounter they had seemed to go this same way. Garak would tell himself that it wasn’t going to happen again. That he’d had his fill. That Captain Bashir was an unkempt and crude man who wasn’t worth his time, even if he did bear resemblance to Doctor Bashir. But then the Terran would swagger over, all confidence and innuendo, and Garak would let himself be swept away in his desire. And then he’d be reminded just why he hadn’t planned on doing this again.Kinktober Day 6: Dirty Talk
Relationships: Mirror Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Kinktober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945888
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36





	Sweet Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned, Mirror Bashir is a bit of a moody dick. 
> 
> For anyone who wants backstory (cuz this starts in the middle of them getting it on), assume that Mirror Bashir and Garak have an on again/off again hatefuck thing that they do whenever the mirror Terrans are visiting the prime universe.
> 
> Update! Podfic version by yohlenyaoilover now available here: <https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135088>

“God, you’ve got a wet cunt.” 

Every encounter they had seemed to go this same way. Garak would tell himself that it wasn’t going to happen again. That he’d had his fill. That Captain Bashir was an unkempt and crude man who wasn’t worth his time. Even if he did bear resemblance to Doctor Bashir.

But then the Terran would swagger over, all confidence and innuendo, and Garak would let himself be swept away in his desire. Pulled into a dark corner or a dressing room or his own quarters for a quick and dirty fuck. 

Which was how, yet again, Garak had ended up on Bashir’s lap, speared to the core on his cock and questioning his life’s decisions.

Bashir had spread himself out like some sort of king, arms over the back of the couch with an annoyingly self-satisfied look on his face as he did absolutely nothing and let Garak do all the work.

And the sorry thing was, Garak didn’t particularly mind. It wasn’t as if Bashir much seemed to care where he was hitting when he bothered to take initiative. This way Garak could ensure his own pleasure.

He rolled his eyes at Bashir’s comment. “Better than a dry one, I suppose.”

Bashir laughed. He slid his arms off the couch back to hold loosely onto his hips.

“Oh, come on now. Don’t be like that. I know you love it.” He punctuated his point with a single hard thrust, pushing an involuntary noise out of Garak.

Garak let his contempt seep into his voice. “Oh? Do you really? I didn’t realize you were Betazoid.”

“I’m not fucking stupid, _Elim.”_

The use of his given name made Garak cringe internally. Bashir had to know it too. It wasn’t his to use.

Bashir continued, “If you didn’t want it, then you’d have broken my neck by now. It’s okay. You don’t need to admit it to me. I understand you Cardies can be a bit repressed.”

There was no use arguing it. His point was already made by the fact that Garak hadn’t stopped riding him all the while, rolling and grinding their hips together and holding onto his shoulders tight enough to bruise.

The fact of the matter was, Garak did enjoy it in some perverse way. Bashir was adept at riling him up into a frenzy, filling him up with an aggressive sort of passion rivaled only by that inspired by Dukat.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should invite Doctor Bashir along sometime,” Bashir continued after he’d gone silent for too long. 

Garak tensed at the mention of Julian, the idea of him finding out about this sending a shock of fear to his core. 

Bashir mistook it as arousal.

“Ooh, you’d like that, hm? I was thinking that your sweet little Julian and I could both take an end—one in your mouth and the other in your cunt, you understand—and then switch off part way through. Wouldn’t that be fun? Get to taste yourself on both of our cocks?”

He slid his hands behind Garak, playfully massaging at his rump and making him squirm.

“I wonder…” he hummed, letting his gaze rake over Garak’s form. “You Cardies keep yourselves pretty damn loose. We could probably fit me and Julian both in there if we wanted to. I think you’d like that, being all stretched out, taking your two favorite boys at once. You’d feel so damn good and tight.”

Garak often felt like he was perpetually rolling his eyes when he was with Bashir, like some sort of broken automaton. But it was the most succinct way of letting the insufferable Terran know just how unbearable Garak found him.

He couldn’t very well let on just how affected he was by the idea.

His affections for Julian were no secret. If the doctor only ever asked, Garak would give his all for him. Logically, Bashir was just a temporary replacement for him then. As soon as he was no longer needed, Garak would cast off the reprobate and never speak to him again.

But somehow, some way, Bashir had become...something to him. 

Perhaps it was only due to those pesky bonding hormones that sexual orgasm released. But he’d begun to enjoy Bashir’s company. His jibes, his arrogance, his rudeness. He didn’t love him. Bashir would never be his Julian. But there was an affection there that hadn’t once existed.

And so the idea of having both at once brought up some more… _complicated_ feelings.

Bashir swiftly rid him of them with a parting smack to his rump as he moved his hands back to rest on Garak’s sides.

“Maybe then Doctor Bashir would let himself loose for once. Not that him having such a rod up his arse is a bad thing for me. Girls love a little good boy-bad boy dichotomy. They go wild for it. Pampered Cardies too,” Bashir added with a squeeze to his well-padded hip.

Garak had to stifle a laugh at that. The idea that Doctor Bashir was somehow uptight or bland. 

“What, you don’t think they do?”

He took in Bashir’s tousled hair and ragged stubble and breathed in the scent of stale sweat and body odor that, while nowhere as bad as it had once been, lingered in the air around them.

“You’re certainly at least one kind of bad, Captain Bashir, but I’m not sure you fit what I understand the usual implications of a ‘bad boy’ to be.”

Bashir narrowed his eyes and gave him a hard pinch on the rear. “Don’t be jealous. There’s enough cock to go around.”

Yes, because that’s just what Garak wanted. He quickly pushed away the thought that floated by about Bashir’s lack of self hygiene and the sorts of bodily fluids that might still be dried on.

“I’d rather pass.”

Bashir bared his teeth and dug his nails into Garak’s hips, pulling him down so that they were flush. He rolled his hips, making sure that Garak felt the full length sitting inside of him.

“Don’t lie to me while you’re riding my cock with that greedy cunt of yours.”

Then Bashir softened quite suddenly, face relaxing into an easy smile and hands caressing over his sides. 

“The truth is, dear Elim, I’m actually kinda into the whole thing you’ve got going on here.”

Bashir guided him into an easy rhythm and finally, _finally_ pushed his hips up to meet him with each thrust. 

Garak tried to tune his voice out. Responding only ever seemed to make it worse; Egged Bashir on to be ruder, rougher, meaner in some pointless display of dominance. Instead, he focused on nothing but the sweet miracle that was being fucked Julian Bashir. The wrong Julian Bashir but a Julian Bashir nonetheless.

“You’re like a big sexy lizard daddy. All nice and soft. None of that where I come from. Very comfy to fuck. Hell, I’d pay for it if I had to. Never thought I’d say that about a damn spoonhead. Thought maybe you’d have spikes on the inside or some shit. Something I’d try out once so that I could say I did it but never again. But you’re so damn good.”

Yes, Garak was being very successful in ignoring every word that came out of Bashir’s mouth. He heard none of it. And especially not the strange genuineness with which he seemed to say it.

Bashir jolted him out of it with a sudden hard thrust. “What? Is the cock really that good, doll? I _said,_ you ever try anal?”

Garak had a moment of confusion. Firstly, what he’d missed that could have possibly led up to _that_ question. And secondly, how such a thing was possible. In Cardassian anatomy, the anus was nearly inaccessible from the opening of the cloaca. 

Belatedly, he realized that Bashir must mean the other way around.

“Are you offering?”

Bashir barked a laugh. “Hell no. I’d never let a Cardie. Even you, sweets.”

Garak raised his eye ridges. “Have _you_ ever tried?”

“Oh, here and there. Tuvok’s a hard man to resist.” Bashir winked.

“I’m sure.”

“You know, I think I get what you see in him.”

And yet again, Garak was lost. He’d only ever seen Tuvok from a distance. Just what sort of delusions had Bashir cooked up inside his head now?

Bashir clarified, “I’m talking about Doctor Bashir. Sure, he’s a bit of a pretty priss but I’d fuck him. Hell, I’d let him fuck me. I bet it’d be nice, you know? The feel of my own cock up my arse?”

Garak tried not to think about that.

Not about Bashir, holding Julian down and roughly rutting into him the same way he so often did to Garak. Grunting and panting, mocking, rough hands biting into his double’s fragile sides and forcing keening moans from Julian.

Nor about Julian, putting that augment strength and Starfeet training to good use, holding Bashir down. Putting him in his place. A clinical, sure, strong touch that put his delinquent double into merciful incoherence as Julian fucked into him with cold precision.

“I bet he’d be all sweet about it too. Try to kiss me and use his hands to get me off.”

Bashir reached up to grab the back of Garak’s head and forced him to lean forward so that he could murmur into his ear, “Bet I could even convince him to fuck you. You’d like that, I’m sure. And of course, I’d get to watch. Been thinking about filling those pretty spoons of yours up. Think I could get him to lick my jizz out of them?”

If Garak hadn’t already been holding his breath thanks to the proximity of Bashir’s mouth to his face, he was sure he would’ve stopped breathing right then and there. It didn’t help that leaning forward changed the angle of Bashir’s thrusts at the slightest angle, creating all the difference.

Bashir pulled him back and ran searching eyes over Garak’s face.

His face twisted into sneer, “Oh, you would like that. You’re such a fucking slut, Elim.” 

That was the final straw. Garak could put up with mountains of abuse of every kind. Had already suffered a number of them at Bashir’s hands and would willingly do so again for these moments of pleasure. But Bashir was in some sort of especially vicious _mood_ today. He was like an animal, taking snapping bites at his prey to test for weak points.

Clearly, there was something wrong with this man.

Garak sharply elbowed his hands off of him and stood, feeling empty and cold inside as his cock slid out. He reached for his folded pile of clothes.

“Hey! Don’t be like that,” Bashir complained. “Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your little feelings. I know people around here can be a bit thin skinned. It’s not your fault.”

He still sat on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and looking put out.

Garak ignored him, turning away to pull on his trousers. Then arms wrapped around him from behind. 

He stiffened. 

A chin dropped to rest on his shoulder, and he could feel Bashir’s naked body pressing up behind him, luxuriously warm even with the hard on poking at his bottom. A hand reached around to sneak under his waistband, palm running along his swollen ajan. The pad of a finger dipped in and brushed the uneverted tip of his prUt.

“If you stay, I’ve been thinking that maybe you could let me suck on that big Cardie dick of yours.” 

Bashir hummed sensually in his ear and nibbled on his aural ridge. 

Garak didn’t stop breathing in time to avoid catching his hot gust of breath.

“It would shut me up.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then Garak caves and Bashir sucks him off and jerks off while doing it. Everyone is happy. :)
> 
> Their lap position in this was in part inspired by [this fabulous nsfw mirror Bashir art.](https://idkmybffspock.livejournal.com/12217.html) (Gotta have an LJ account to view since it's 18+)
> 
> Kudos and comments are encouraged! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sweet Talk [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135088) by [yohlenyaoilover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yohlenyaoilover/pseuds/yohlenyaoilover)




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